Several Die, One Raises
by Dexs Adries
Summary: Everything created has an essence, whether good or bad is not for us to decide. Decisions we make change the surface of the planes. A man makes a new toy and expects greatness from it. A vampire creates a new species and demands greatness from it.
1. Prologue

Our thoughts are often drawn to the beginning of life and where things came from. Theories and ideas from come from every crevice around the world. Single seeds of ideas have grown and died over time and we learn from these seeds. In order to move forward we look simply for the single answer that has yet to be answered. Why are we here? Where did we come from? Where will we go from here? Simple questions we ask ourselves on a daily basis. Questions linked to simple survival. How many times are our questions turned towards death? Why do we die? Where do we go? Some say there is nothing beyond this life or the next. Some say we are all there is and nothing exists further than our own knowledge. To believe this, to let it become apart of our way of thinking is the one lie that has single handily blinded the world at whole. The one lie that has made my existence god-like.

Who I am, what I am is nothing more than a child's tale, a whisper on the midnight air, and a legend of bravest hunters. My existence has plagued mankind for countless years and still I remain supreme. The presence of life brought me into this world and I feel as though I remain its protector. A god amongst men. They call me life taker, the night creature and the forsaken warrior. I have never truly known any name for myself. Not even since my birth have I known a name. The story goes that seven stars crossed paths and sent a demon soul to the world. The world opened its mouth and swallowed whole the entity. Over years the world stirred with life and the demon inside was released through earth and stone.

I took one step from my birth place and breathed not air, but life. I could feel the essence of life all around me. It felt warm, it smelled so delicious and I just wanted to be apart of that warm feeling. Just one taste of the essence that smelled so delicious. Walking was awkward and I could barely manage the first few steps. The world slowly moved around me. It swirled with the essence I thirst for and so I reached out and grabbed a vessel of this essence. I sinked my teeth deep into this vessel. I felt life itself filling my body with strength, my eyes widened and I took every drop of life from that vessel. The vessel stopped moving and the essence was gone, drained before my eyes.

I searched for many years some source of life that would not die so easily with my touch. I wanted this life to be apart of me and yet I could not stand to watch it be eliminated. I discovered a tribe of nomadic men. They were the most beautiful creatures I had ever seen thus far in this world. Their women were intelligent, the men both beautiful and strong. They had three leaders who were the the strongest, most beautiful and intelligent of the group. They saw my skin and teeth as a sign that I was one of their gods. A creature they worshiped from their lore and beliefs. I wanted them to grow, I wanted them to be full of life and more than anything I wanted their life. Their leaders followed my every step for days. They seemed dazed by my presence, as though they were influenced by the slightest raise of an eyebrow.  
>During one of their ceremonies their leaders offered me food, I couldn't lie to them that a hunger had set itself deep in my soul. Their food was unpleasing. A taste of foul rot lingered in my mouth. I offered my hand to the beautiful male leader and he quickly accepted. I drained him of his essence quicker than I thought I would. I could still see something lingering inside him. A small bit of essence I could not take, I was entranced. I returned some of his life and watched the essence swirled and change before me. The essence became darker and changed almost entirely. What I had done that day would effect the world for the rest of its miserable life. For I had released a new species onto the world. I repeated this process with the other two leaders and explained to them the things they would need to know in order to survive. Their tribe began to worship all of us now. My new friends called themselves my eternal servants. I felt I belonged here with these humans,protecting them and their essence of life. I stayed with their lush civilization for thousands of years before dispersing into the unknown. My years of being worshipped had come to an end. No longer did I wish for their prays.<p>

For one hundred years I traveled this world, meeting new people and learning their ways. I soaked up the knowledge of the freshly started world. Very few nomads remained in this world and most had come to settle down. I found it refreshing to know that I could always return to some place if I so wished to. However, a longing came for me to return my people. Upon my arrival I saw empty houses and rotted meat from an animal killed long ago. My people were gone and for a moment I thought they were killed, but I found traces of the crimson life they carried. I knew simply that my servants had eradicated all I had created. I left the place as quickly as I had arrived. Whether or not some remained there was not important.

My eyes had been opened to the destruction of my servants. They wished to abuse their gifts and take from this world of life. Those of us who are given great gifts of life think we have the right to abuse it. In truth we have no more power to abuse our lives for in memory are those who were given little to begin with. For this reason, I left the world I had become acquainted with. I stalked it from shadows and watched its people restlessly. I did not know what I was searching for anymore. I had become lost.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

A moist layer of fog covered the damp ground of the Polravis streets. Crickets chirped their final words to the world as though they were saying their goodbyes before morning's first rays of light. Silver eyes opened briefly to gaze at the wonders of the silent dawn. White bars blocked the viewers vision for a brief moment before curved fingers could move them out of sight. A hand pressed against the cement and a surge of unexpected strength pushed off from the ground and lifted the body up. Long bangs fell from their lofted position and covered the sharp silver eyes again. Fingers flexed for what seemed like the first time. The feeling was unfamiliar and tense, an almost sharp pain shot up a thin pale arm. Watching the hand stretch stirred a desire to move the other hand. Within a few minutes both hands and feet were flexing and a strange curve wrapped itself over, smiling at the success.

A brown box fell to the ground behind them and out of instincts a quick turn of ankles looked to see what the owner of the new sound. Slow steps were taken forward until the box was picked up by the hands. It felt different from the pale skin and smelled rather foul. The head jerked up at the sound of a voice.

"They call it cardboard. A cardboard box to precise. They call me Oliver and you?"

Sharp silver eyes looked in what seemed like a mirror. Stark white hair cut short and fine in what must of been the latest fashion. Silver eyes zeroed in and focused on the figure before them. Quickly sizing up in the intruder in the alley way. A voice found itself slowly and weak, "Me... name?"

A chuckle followed suit as a hand rested itself upon a brick wall, "Dead weight if I ever did see one. You seem to learn faster than most. The words your searching for are 'my name is' then you would precede by telling me your name. My name is Oliver. Obviously you don't even know what a name is so telling you the formalities would be an utter waste of my time. Hmm... can't have you walking about undressed. Its rude to the Pure. All their righteousness gets in the way of matter at hand after all."

The head turned and stared at the man in front of the view. The man was dressed in bizarre clothing. Small silver strips over black cloth with round eyes down the center. His legs were covered in a similar manner. Catching the eyes staring at the clothing the man smiled, "Its called a suit. We will have to have one tailored for you depending on the coven your assigned to."

The man stopped and seemed to focus on something in the wall. His eyes were focused and he took a very serious face, "Don't move my friend."

The man walked past the curious eyes and out of view. For only few minutes the eyes stared at the empty alley and waited for the man's return. When he came back he had another man with him. The two seemed entranced in a small dance with one another, "Oh, don't worry about her anymore my friend. She won't mind one little kiss."

The new man nodded and leaned in with his lips pinch together. The silver haired man slowly grabbed the back of his head and drew his lips against the other's. Without any real notice he moved his head back and flashed his eyes black then dove his bared teeth into the man's neck. The man shifted and squirmed for only a few moments before the body went limp. The silver haired man lifted his mouth and licked traces of a crimson liquid from his lips. A sinister smile covered his once perfected smile. He stripped the clothes off the man and one by one handed them to the watcher, "These go on first. One foot through each hole. Good. Now that's called underwear. These are referred to jeans they go on over. This is a shirt, your arms go through here and your head goes through here."

With in a few minutes the clothes covered the skin and a warm feeling shivered down the spine. A smile returned to the man, "Now, boy we shall refer to you as Syrus. A fitting name I think. You and I are males, Syrus. Just like this one. We have to keep parts of ourselves covered at all times. From your waist down. Women keep their entire bodies covered. Its some form of hiding shame. The Pure think the better dressed you are the better you are in their society. If not well in the Pure society then you'll never be well anywhere. Pure has there hands everywhere in this world it almost seems."

Syrus. That was his name now. He rubbed his hands over the cloths. They smelled almost as foul as the alley they stood in. Oliver rubbed his hand over his silver hair and motioned him towards a hatch on the ground. They entered the bowels of the city and for a moment all Syrus could see was the darkness crawling over everything. Oliver did not wait for his eyes to adjust to the darkness and began to walk deeper in the tunnel they now stood in. The first few steps found themselves in a shallow water. Sludge crawled through the holes in Syrus's shoes and wrapped around his toes. The water seems to slowly get deeper and for a split moment panic filled his veins. Oliver stopped walking and lifted Syrus up onto a stone path, "That must be a comfortable feeling. That is the sewer ditch you were just now walking in. I know your having difficulty seeing, but that will all be changed very try to stay close behind me and I will get us to our destination."

Oliver smiled and continued walking forward towards the darkness with Syrus close behind him. With a slender hand Syrus pulled gently on part of Oliver's sleeve and asked very quietly, "Pure?"

Oliver chuckled, "I was rambling on about them now wasn't I? If you are truly curious about them then let me tell you a true legend before they ever have the chance of diluting your mind. The pure betrayed our creator. They were entrusted to protect the holy species. A breed of homo sapiens who showed skills far beyond anyone else of their time. The creator created the Pure by accident. He had never fed on a human before and while he watched its life flee he attempted to save the three. They were powerful and greedy vampires, an amount of the creator's own power resided in them. So when his watchful eye disappeared, the Pure attempted to change every single human who was apart of that tribe. Thousands died in the process. They were merely fledglings then, who attempted to change tens of thousands of humans. They succeeded in a mere five thousand. After the years of a novice teaching a novice and several civil wars, that second generation of created vampires was brought to roughly 500 vampires. As they continued their travels they eventually created the last of the super vampries, generation three. Only 2000 G threes remain alive today."

The tunnel had changed and was becoming smoother and the smell seemed to be changing rapidly. Oliver continued on explaining the newest crisis of the "dead weight" vampires. Syrus couldn't make much sense of it. Oliver stopped suddenly and turned around quicker than Syrus's eyes could follow, "Now, Syrus. We are coming very close to Pure territory or the first generation. The pure are protected by the grocstika. Vampires who have become more beast than man. They can no longer return to the surface world. Do not stare at them and never speak unless given permission by a member of pure. If you are told to speak do not tell them about our conversations here. It is blasphemous to call the Pure traitors. You will have plenty of time later to understand the politics. For now let us just get you a coven house."

Oliver turned around and opened an iron door on the side of the tunnel. A light purple light poured out and covered there faces. A hand reached through and grabbed Oliver, "Why are you bringing us dinner? Oliver are you trying to buy our trust? No one trusts the unknown vampire these days. Take your meat elsewhere."

Paying closer attention Syrus noticed that the speaker's hand was grotesque and almost a pale grey, as though it was dead. The skin wrapped tightly around the bones and in some areas the bones protruded from their fleshy shell. Oliver grabbed the hand as if it were diseased and forced it to let go of his jacket, "I do not waste my time with second generation trash, Pulcisa."

The owner to the hand stepped forward into Syrus's line of sight. The figure was covered in a thick cloth that covered almost all of his body, it even had a hooded attached that covered his head. The vampire looked over Oliver and laughed, "Ah Oliver! What gives Pulcisa such an honored visit?"

Oliver smiled yet again, "You know me picking up the trash. This here is a dead weight. I've brought him to be assessed by the council of Pure."  
>The hooded figure shifted its line of sight from Oliver to Syrus, "Oliver what makes you think it isn't just a VFB? The council cannot be put at risk. Not with a coven war going on!"<p>

Oliver waved his hand in front of the hood for a moment to get Pulcisa's attention, "Vampire frenzied bombs are not born with changed eyes. Look at his eyes Pulcisa. They have the silver tint and no remainder of what they may of been prior. VFB's have yet to pull that one off. Unlike VFB's he learns quickly. Absorb knowledge and then spits it right back out. There is something special about this one. Almost like he is a first generation."  
>Pulcisa looked over Syrus and shooked his head, "If he is worth dying for Oliver, take him down the hall then."<p>

Oliver shoved Syrus forward through the iron door and into the strangest room he'd ever seen. Purple curtains covered the walls and dim lights poked out between some of the curtains. The hallway continued for at least twenty minutes with no change in decoration or any other tunnels. Oliver stopped and placed his hand near the top of a door and looked to Syrus beforing pushing it open, "Do not speak a word if you would like to continue living in this world, Syrus."

Syrus nodded and his silver hair quickly fell before his eyes again. He heard the door creaking open and a slight pressure drop onto his shoulders. He lifted his bangs from his face and saw exactly why Oliver had told him to be silent.


End file.
